Come Out Angels
by nothingbetter2do
Summary: 10 years later, people with powers are revealed to the world. There is a specials army and a new Company is created. Drafting is used often catching an indestructible cheerleader and a superpowered serial killer. Full Summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Come Out Angels  
**Fandom:** Heroes  
**Rating: **T  
**Beta:** None. Yet. Any offers?  
**Summary:** Its ten years later and people with abilities have revealed themselves to the world. The government created a 'special' army against other forces that countries formed. A new Company was created and a process identical to drafting is used often, catching even the dead senator's indestructible daughter and a certain super-powered serial killer.  
**Notes:** Btw, the Shanti virus didn't take away Sylar's powers permanently in this. As for the series, I just think he doesn't use them as much anymore. May or may not be Sylaire. Not sure yet.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Heroes

* * *

The darkness enveloped Sylar, welcoming him back like the old friend he was as he stepped out of the dimly lit street into the pitch black alley that led to the crappy motel he had been living in.

He heard footsteps in front of him and glanced up. A random businessman, staring down at his moving feet was passing through the alley coming towards him.

Sylar ignored the man, but something caused his eyes shoot up in alarm. The alley was narrow enough that when they passed, their sleeves would just barely touch. The man was almost right next to him when there was a tinny machine voice that whispered, "That's him."

It was so quiet that a normal human wouldn't have heard it. Luckily, thanks to Dale Smither and many others, Sylar wasn't a normal human.

The man was fast, not superhumanly fast, but more than ordinary, but Sylar was faster. Right as the man whipped out a syringe, surely about to plunge it into his neck, Sylar snapped his wrist quickly and slammed him against the brick wall. Hearing the satisfying crack from his head, he smirked. The man slid down, groaning.

"Sylar." He heard from behind him.

Whipping around, his eyes narrowed and he growled. "Bennet."

He raised his hand, expecting the man to fly through the air, then when nothing happened, his dark eyes flickered to the tall figure who had stepped into view.

"I'm here to offer you something." The man had aged, his blonde hair turning slightly gray and his face had gained more wrinkles. The eyes were still cold and he still wore those damn horn-rimmed glasses.

"Really?" he scoffed. "That's never good. I think I'll pass."He started to walk away, but was stuck in place. He then noticed the man who had attacked him earlier had raised his hand, holding the other, broken one carefully against his bloody skull. Great. A telekinetic.

Distracted, he didn't notice Bennet next to him, jabbing a needle into the side of his neck. His vision blurred and then he slipped downwards into darkness once again.

- -

He woke up on a concrete slab. Again. Crap. He was starting to lose count. The lights flickered on and he saw Bennet staring at him from behind the glass. It was an exact replica of the old Primatech cells, but this one was funded by the government and not secret. This prison was as famous as Alcatraz or Guantanamo Bay.

Sylar tried to lift his head, but he felt so drowsy, so disoriented and his mind was so muddled that it took a few minutes to piece together that he was being drugged.

Bennet opened the door and took his time getting around to him.

Sylar struggled in keeping his eyes open, his breath steady as Bennet started to speak.

"Like I said before, I'm here to offer you something." He paced around the almost unconscious man. "We're not going to win this war."

Finding the strength to snort, he managed to sound sarcastic. "You don't think I know that?" his words were slurred. "We've been losing since we started." After specials had been revealed to the world, they had created a special unit that was made up of people with abilities. That unit soon grew into an army and other countries had created their own. Somehow a war broke out and, well, America was losing.

Bennet grinned. "That's where you come in. With certain specials, not just the random people they pull off with the drafts, we might have a fighting chance."

They had gone back to using drafting to get people to join. It was almost like the lottery. All children were tested for the gene at a young age and then entered into a computer database. Once they turned eighteen they were entered for the drawing. They pulled a few people out whenever they needed more forces and broadcasted the 'winners' on TV. People who refused to go were hunted down by this new Company. Half the ones they pulled were kids with either useless powers or no control over them.

"We need someone like you to win this war. You would be a…secret weapon I suppose."

"And what's in it for me?" he was struggling to just stay awake.

"If you don't agree," he paused and spread his arms out, gesturing to the small room they were currently in. "This is your new home."

He scoffed. "I think I'll be fine with that. I've gotten out before."

"Not this time. We've upgraded. But if staying out of here isn't enough for you, we would be able to clear Gabriel Gray of his crimes. Not Sylar, but Gabriel would have immunity for the murders of Brian Davis, Virginia Gray, and Trevor Zeitlan."

"Can you do that?"

"This is a special circumstance."

He contemplated it as much as he could with his mind messed up at the moment. Why not? He had nothing to lose really. Plus, if anything happened again, like him losing his memory, he wouldn't be arrested for any crimes he didn't remember. And why not have a change of pace? After all, he had eternity. "Fine. When do I start?" His words ran together and he blissfully gave into the sleep that had been pushing at him.

-

Claire Bennet, otherwise known as Claire Morgan, was in college for the fourth try. After dropping out several times, she now had changed her name more times than she could remember.

"Claire? Hey, there's a party tonight. You going?" a girl, Debby something walked by her.

"Nah. Not tonight." The girl shrugged and went on her way.

This was Claire's fourth time in college. The first time she had dropped out to join the carnival, the next, which was before anyone knew what she could do, a car full of drunks had crashed. Into her. Luckily, a shard of metal had lodged itself into the back of her head. Her father had gotten to her before the coroners, but it meant another change of name. After that, she had just dropped out, not feeling like continuing. Hopefully this time she would actually get through it.

Walking into her dark dorm room, she dropped off her purse, flipped on the TV, and flopped onto her bed. Her roommate, Allison, was napping quietly on the other bed.

"Claire? Why are you watching the drafts?" she looked up at the other girl with sleepy eyes. Claire had changed the channel to the drafts for the special armies.

"There's nothing else on." She lied smoothly. It was really to see if anyone she knew had been picked.

A few pictures and names flashed onscreen, no one she knew, not that little Molly, not young Micah, Rebel. When the next one came on, her invincible heart stopped for a second. On the tiny screen was a picture of a proud, smiling girl with blonde curls and bright eyes, a girl that had died so long ago.

Allison peered up at the red-and-white Union Wells cheerleading uniform and frowned. "Is that… you? Why does it say Claire Bennet?"

She sighed, dreading what would come next. "Well… I'm kind of… a special…"

Allison gave her a look that said, 'And?'

"Rapid cellular regeneration. You're premed. You know what that means."

The girl sucked in her breath sharply.

"My real name is Claire Bennet. I can never die."

* * *

I'm sorry for the sucky ending. I was stuck. Please tell me if I should continue this. For the first time, I've been somewhat satisfied with the first chapter. Would you believe this came to me in a dream? Sounds fake, but it's true. Review, or even flame! I welcome any sort of response!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note- No Claire in this kinda short chapter. I'm sort of stuck on the whole beginning mainly cuz I have no idea how things go in the army. I didn't edit this at all. Merry Christmas and please review!

-

The kept him heavily drugged for a while, and his healing ability allowed him to wake up as soon as they took him off the drip. They were in a plain gray room and Sylar could hear lots of noise outside, people laughing, joking around, and talking. A man walked in and shut the door behind him.

"When we let you out there, you can do whatever you want. However, we will be watching you. If you do anything that alarms us, if you lift a finger against _anyone_, we will keep you drugged until we need you. Do you understand?" The man glowered at him.

He smirked, nodded, and did a smart salute. The man sighed and opened the door, gesturing for him to leave.

Swinging smoothly up from the blue plastic chair, he cheerfully swaggered out.

They were in a park-like area with men and women chatting with each other. A football whistled through the air nearly missing his head.

"Whoa. Sorry buddy." A young man in his late twenty's picked up the ball. "Didn't see you th- Sylar?" he asked incredulously.

"Hm?" he took a better look at the man. "Luke?"

"Hey! What are you doing here?" he asked. "Wait…" his smile turned into a wary look. "Are you still-you know-"he hesitated. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Killing?"

The older man let out a laugh. "No. I haven't in a while."

Luke smiled again. "Good! Otherwise, well, wouldn't this have been like an all you can eat buffet?"

He sighed. "I don't eat them!"

"Chill. I never said that. Hey this is Ryan, Jack, and Brian." He led him over to three guys.

One was a dark-skinned man with cocky brown eyes and an unusually big mouth.. The next was a tall, freckled man with short black hair, a nice smile, and kind blue eyes. The last was handsome, with the same hair as the second man and deep blue-green eyes.

"I'm Ryan Nichols." The first man introduced himself. He shook Sylar's hand, blue sparks winding around them. Smirking, Sylar sent them back, watching the burned flesh repair itself.

"Jack Sullivan." The second said, amazed by his display.

"Sullivan?"

He beamed. "Yeah. My dad's the leader of the carnival. I have terrakinesis, just like him." He sounded like a boy wanting, _needing_ his father's approval.

"Ha. I heard he was still alive." After the specials had been revealed to the world, the number of people joining the carnival grew. Because of all the prejudice that always came with a new kind of human, more people needed a place where they could be themselves. Samuel's power had slowed his aging, almost made him younger.

"I'm Brian Sigge."The last man held out his hand.

"What can you do?" He asked, shaking it firmly.

"Water manipulation."

A young dark-skinned man in his mid-twenties approached them. "Gabriel Gray and Brian Sigge?" he asked, glancing up from a clipboard.

They looked up and his eyes widened. "Sylar???" he gasped.

Thinking back to who this might be, he faintly remembered a fourteen-year-old boy, all alone in a dark room surrounded by different gadgets. "Rebel? Micah, right?"

A young woman walked up to them, a bit younger than Micah, with long brown hair and steely brown eyes. "Is there a problem, Micah?"

Not taking his eyes off Sylar, he answered her. "It's nothing, Molly."

He turned to her. "Molly Walker right? Never actually got your power. Your father's, however, has definitely been useful." He lifted his ice covered hand.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, recognizing him immediately. After all, it would be hard to forget the man who murdered both your parents. "I'm not the same scared little girl, Boogeyman. You two have to come with us." She then turned and stalked away, expecting them to follow.

"Crap. She's pissed." Micah ran a hand through his thick curls. "We better go."

-

They were led to a room that had some other people in it. A small number were lounging around, some playing cards, some napping, one sharpening his knifes. The others were nervously looking around wondering what they were doing there.

Molly walked over to another man holding a clipboard. "That's the last two."

"Alright." The man went to the front of the room. "My name is Jonah Castor. I'm a telepath. You've all been selected for a _special_ unit. You all have powers that we could use. These people are part of the original unit, formed five years ago." They looked at the people relaxing on the other side of the room. "Sarah Brandon, telekinesis. Michal King, duplication. Damian Baty, invisibility. Christopher Shaw, terrakinesis. Talia Steeler pyrokinesis. Lili Mead, omni-linguism. Stacy Chester, empathy. Micah Sanders, technopathy, and Molly Walker, clairvoyance." They all nodded in turn.

An anxious looking man scurried in, trying not to turn his gaze to the supposedly dangerous people in the room. He handed a file to Jonah and scurried away again.

He flipped open the file and scanned through it. Snapping the yellowish folder shut, he addressed the group, mostly the ones who had been here longer. "We're moving out now." He tossed files to the original group. "These are the new recruits you'll be teaching."

He walked out, leaving the people to start calling the names of the people on their lists.

"Sylar, you're with us." Molly brushed past him, followed by Micah, who glanced apologetically back at him. Hm. Seemed like the boy hadn't minded being with his crazy multiple personality self that day when he had rescued him. Maybe he could use that sometime. He shrugged and followed after them.

-


	3. Preview

This is just a preview of the next chapter. My dad won't let me watch the new episode(s) because I have C's. :( People who read Passing Grade, which I'm not sure I'll ever finish, I'm gonna be using some of those characters in here. Also, Talia Steeler, from last chapter, is my Survival character, if anyone cares.

Thanks to Chamberlinofmusic, TristeAlma, 1hazel124, and everyone else who read!

Please review!

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They had been stationed in Jersey for a while now, with makeshift homes formed in the rubble that was once towering skyscrapers, now only skeletons. They were near where all the important fighting had been taking place, where _he_ would be, her fiancée, a talented illusionist and useful fighter. She had gotten a speedster in their unit to run her past the edges of the city into the rolling countryside, one of the few places that had been untouched by the bombs, by the war. She had been taking small walks there, marveling in the simplistic beauty that was there. It was the day before they would be moving on and she wanted to take in as much of it as she could. Peeking into the giant barn that was the only thing she hadn't explored yet, she walked forward, taking in the beautiful sight, mostly the sun, coming in softly from the high windows. She soon realized that it was a training area for horses, someplace to break them in. She slowly made her way to the center and shut her eyes, letting the sun warm her too pale face.

She didn't notice him coming, heard no footsteps, no golden straw crunching under a heavy combat boot, no shadow obscured the light filtering in through her shut eyelids, but suddenly the empty space in her arms filled, held up as if she was waltzing with someone. She kept her eyes closed as he swept her around the empty space, his hands ghosting around her waist. His touches were feather soft, almost if he wasn't really there, but she knew that he was, she felt him there. He lifted her arm gently, prompting her to twirl around, sending dust flying through the air. Leading her around the sun-stabled arena, she quickly got lost in the sensations. She could almost hear the lovely music, the other dancers laughing and whirling around alongside her, her feet gliding over a real ballroom floor, smooth and solid, not the hay covered dirt, trampled down by the many hooves and shoes that had crossed the same floor in the years. The best of it all was having him near her, his scent, his arms around her, the feeling of being _safe. _She rapidly turned, her eyes snapping open, wanting, _needing _to see his rugged face, but instead seeing-

Nothing. Nothing but an empty stable and the birds chirping from the safety in the old rafters. Head spinning and heart aching, she stumbled to the exit, glancing back wistfully one last time, only to catch a glimpse of a ghostly figure dissolving into the nostalgic wind.


End file.
